


Granger and the Stag

by i_amtheoutlaw



Series: Draco [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asphyxiation, BDSM, Blood Play, Cum Play, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Hermione POV, M/M, Multi, mentions of kinks:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry spills the beans about the spider in the bath tub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Granger and the Stag

Hermione was suspicious of the world at the moment. She hadn’t seen or heard from her best friend in two days, which was disturbing when one took into consideration their normal level of co-dependency. Ronald had also been less than helpful when she’d attempted to tamper her worry through questioning him. She knew everything wasn’t fine. It helped nothing to keep saying that things were.

She was pacing her living room when a sudden stag came charging through it. _‘Mione_ , he told her, _I think I need your help_. 

She smiled and strode toward the floo. 

“Oh, Harry!” she shouted when she saw the mess that used to be his house last time she’d checked. 

“I know,” he drawled into a pillow from his position face first in the couch. “Let’s just burn it all.”

“What happened?” her voice had softened without her consent. 

“Bloody Malfoy happened,” Harry growled and Hermione was struck with a sense of nostalgic dejavu. She’d thought the animosity between the two of them had dissipated along with the last bit of Voldemort’s soul and their Quidditch days. “If it wouldn’t ruin literally everything good that’s happened along with it, I would already have gone back in time and made sure his birth never happened!”

“Harry!” Hermione found her voice again. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Sorry, Hermione,” Harry mumbled. “I’m just upset.”

“I can tell,” she smiled slightly as she spoke. “But we cannot discuss anything in here. It’s distracting. Let’s proceed to the kitchen.”

Harry grumbled but followed her out of the room. When they were both comfy across from each other at the table, Hermione sent some items about readying tea with a few flicks of her wand. The sound of their movement seemed to relax Harry somewhat so she risked throwing a few more around for mere tidiness. 

Harry sighed and summoned a roll of parchment, hesitating before he handed it over. Hermione was so intrigued by now that she didn’t even ask what it was. This was her mistake.

“Harry!” she gasped as her eyes came in contact with words like _asphyxiation_ and _exhibitionism_ , and phrases such as _cum play_ and _double penetration_. “What is this?” but she had continued to read and was starting to realize on her own. “This is a BDSM contract - or something of the sort, am I right?”

Harry just blinked at her looking like a lost puppy and Hermione wanted to comfort him but just then she noticed three signatures lining the bottom of the contract. Parkinson, signing as witness and second dominant participant in specialized cases. Zabini, signing as dominant participant. Malfoy, signing as submissive participant.

“What in the–Merlin, Harry! Where did you get this?” she threw the contract on the table, suddenly feeling dirty for being so curious. The last thing she needed was a vision involving leather and Pansy whipping Malfoy into shape when she would have to work with the woman various times in the coming months. 

“Zabini gave it to me,” Harry sighed and Hermione raised a brow. 

“He just handed it over, did he?” Hermione snapped when Harry failed to elaborate. 

“Well . . .” and here comes the babble, Hermione thought as she readied herself to pick through Harry’s tale for the actual story. “I was visiting Luna, you know, it was the first time I’d been able to make it by since she moved - and it really was the first time, I swear! And then, well, then Malfoy was suddenly there when I was on my way to the apparition point–-cause it’s wizarding muggle, you know–-and, well, he lives there. Malfoy. Next to Luna. And he was acting–acting–acting _some_ type of way, okay! I knew something was up!”

Hermione nodded reassuringly, they had both learned the necessity of the gut feeling. Hermione almost smiled thinking back to her morning of restless pacing. She’d been correct, something was definitely not right.

“He told me he couldn’t use his wand and gave me no explanation what so ever. Just, bam! _Hey, Potter! I’m living like a muggle! Now rescue me from this spider so I can slam the door in your face and confuse everybody while I bath in my luxurious tub_!”

Harry suddenly stood and began pacing. “So,” he continued, “I wanted to know, of course. Why Malfoy was living without his wand and so I got a copy of his probation, it wasn’t even like it was hard–-um–-to do, and I highlighted all the wand restrictions for him and then–-then I–-then I went to see him. Again.”

Hermione froze. “You went back . . ?” she asked, rarely unsure to the reason behind why she was suddenly feeling so worried herself. 

Harry nodded miserably. “The next day,” he further pointed out. “Yesterday evening.”

“And . . ?” Hermione drawled. 

“And Zabini let me in! He _let_ me in, okay!” Harry shrieked, fingers digging through his hair. “Just invited me through like everything was bloody normal, but–-” Harry took in a large gulp of air and fell back into his seat with a noisy exhale “–-but everything wasn’t normal, Hermione! Nothing was normal!" 

"Oh,” Hermione said, she suddenly had the urge to giggle. She thought she had already figured out just what was so absurd about the sight waiting for Harry through the threshold into Malfoy’s flat. “Did you–-um–-get an eye full?" 

Harry looked her in the eye for the first time in many passing minutes, but he didn’t answer. 

"How did you end up with this then?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know what Harry had seen anyway. 

“He was–-he was bruised, Hermione,” Harry blurted. “Malfoy was, and bleeding from places and–-” he shut his mouth and let his head drop to the table. “I was going hex the day lights out of Zabini when I'd thought I figured out what was going on." 

"But Zabini gave you this?” Hermione guessed. 

Harry opened his mouth but was paused by a knock on the door. Harry seemed to slowly tense, like a stag who had just realized he was being watched through the thick of the forest. “Should I answer it? What if it’s Malfoy?” he whispered hurriedly.

“I highly doubt that,” Hermione sighed and stood to answer the door. Somehow she was still surprised to see Pansy Parkinson on the other side of it. She wore a gown, had sometime graduated out of nasty school girl into full-grown pureblood lady, and her voice carried the chill of ice that Hermione highly disliked. 

“I hear their has been issue,” Parkinson drawled. 

Hermione couldn’t help but gape at her, frantically trying to decide how she she’d managed to find them.


End file.
